


Overwhere

by leiascully



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-21
Updated: 2006-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're going to eight balls."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overwhere

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: S4  
> Disclaimer: _The West Wing_ and all related characters are property of Aaron Sorkin, Thomas Schlamme, and NBC. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Toby, of course, took the seat next to the cabdriver while Donna perched on Josh's lap with an arm around his neck to steady herself. All the boys were in high spirits, she thought, or high on spirits; the cab was filled with a faint exhalation of alcohol fumes.

"You all right there, Donna?" asked Danny. "'Cause, you know, you can always sit with me if Josh gets unruly."

"Hey, we're fine," Josh said, waving a hand at Danny. "Get your own assistant." His arm went protectively around Donna's waist. She smiled, a little giddy, glad that everything was all right again. Jack was gone, but somehow that was getting more okay by the minute. Josh's coat was warm on her shoulders and her heart was thumping the way it had in high school, not that she'd sat on many guys' laps then. She was amused by the boys; she hadn't seen them this drunk since the first inauguration. And they had eight balls at which to make an appearance, which would be fun. And Josh had said that she looked amazing. She held that tenderly in her mind like a child cupping a firefly.

"Donna," said Charlie suddenly, "what do women want?" Even Toby turned to look at her expectantly.

"Um...romance? Depends on the woman, Charlie."

"Apparently French royalty is high on the list," he grumbled. Donna toyed with the fringe of Josh's scarf.

"Could be the accent," she offered. "How are you and Josh going to stay warm while we're going between these eight balls if you don't have coats?"

"If Charlie can take it, so can I," Josh boasted, and winked. "Or we can both try to fit in my coat. I bet you'd tuck nicely under my arm." He shifted the arm around her waist so that it settled more comfortably into the curve of her side. She smiled, ignoring the gradually growing sensation that all her nerves were migrating to the outside of her skin.

"Is C.J. mad?" she asked to distract herself.

"She is," said Josh, "but she'll get over it."

"Good luck with that," muttered Danny.

"C.J. is a woman. She understands the ties of love," said Josh theatrically. "Or, you know, whatever. Anyway, Donna didn't say it. C.J. won't dress her down for bad taste in men."

"Watch it, Joshua," said Toby, clearly enjoying himself. "Donna's in a position to do some damage, and I mean that on so many levels."

Josh jiggled her gently. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you, Donna? I remembered Christmas, right? And your birthday? I'm a good boss."

"I wouldn't go that far. How much champagne have you all had tonight?"

Danny and Josh and Charlie looked at each other and shrugged.

"A lot," said Toby. "For tonight, we are celebrating a righteous victory!"

"Yeah!" chorused Josh and Danny.

"I'm more righteous than skeezy French royalty," Charlie said.

Josh exchanged looks with Donna across the few inches between their faces. "No doubt you'll be victorious," he said. "I'd drink to that, if I had anything to toast with."

Donna leaned in so that she could whisper. "Please remember that you have a delicate system when you're drinking yourself into a stupor tonight."

"Why do you think I brought you with me?" he whispered back, lips nearly grazing her ear. She felt her face grow hot. "I couldn't leave you home alone when I'd need to be taken care of. You serve at the pleasure of the Deputy Chief of Staff."

"Mmm, that's good to know," she said, trying to be noncommital and hoping he hadn't noticed her quick shiver inside his coat.

"Are you two sharing White House secrets?" Danny asked, leaning in.

"Yeah," said Josh sarcastically, "all those many secrets like..."

"Like why C.J. won't date you," Donna put in smoothly.

Danny squinted. "Are you mocking me?"

"Yes," said Donna and Josh simultaneously. Danny sat back disgruntled as the cab pulled up outside the hall. In a confusion of dress clothes and wallets, they scrambled out of the cab, paid, and went in, Donna on Josh's arm. They left coats at the door and Toby and Danny at the bar; Charlie wandered off to glare at Zoey and Jean-Paul.

"Come on," said Josh as they'd been to a hundred balls together. He led her into the swirl of gowns and tuxedos. She followed, sliding easily into his arms. Although Josh was normally not the epitome of the socially graceful, he guided her around the floor with some moticum of skill. She relaxed against him as the music slowed down.

"When did you learn to dance?"

"Cotillion," he said. "My mother sent me to cotillion. Plus, you know, I'm drunk, so performance anxiety and inhibitions? Out the window. Totally defenestrated." He put his cheek against hers. "I'm glad you're tall enough to dance with."

She closed her eyes. "The shoes help." He smelled good, cologne and clean skin, and she liked the way his knees brushed hers through the skirts of her gown as they swayed.

"Just think," he said, and she could feel the vibration as he spoke, "we get to do this all night. And then when we get stressed from trying to coerce Congress into doing the right thing, we can think about this night and remember that we never have to run for re-election again. I'm sorry about Jack, by the way. Not that I had anything to do with his transfer."

"It's okay," she said. "I'll live."

"Charlie said a sabre wouldn't look good with a tux. Anyway, forget Jack. He was no good for you. That's a Republican for you - he'll let the innocent take the bullet every time. There are better men out there, Donnatella. Don't settle for the ones that want you just because you're blonde and beautiful. You deserve a man of character."

"Thank you," she said, more amused than annoyed.

"I could put some buttons on my pants," he said. "Whoops, time to go. Hey, let's see if we can get the full cab again, that was fun." But there was plenty of room; she ended up curled into his side while C.J. chattered animatedly by the other window, having apparently forgiven her. Seven more rooms packed with formals faced them, and many tall flutes of champagne, and the headiness of victory and Josh's arm around her, his hand at the small of her back guiding her.

"You know, I have character," he confided as they entered the fifth ball. "I just don't have any fancy pins to put on my jacket." She wanted to kiss him, but there were too many eyes around. In the middle of the seventh ball, he started to falkter, leaning on her while they danced, stumbling a bit. She deftly redirected further offers of champagne and made him drink a little water. Leo wandered over, trying to look casual, and gave her a congratulatory hug.

"Why don't you take him on home?" he whispered as they embraced. "You want cab money?"

"We'll be fine," she said. They beamed at each other. "Thanks, Leo. And well done." He waves a dismissive hand at her but smiled as he shambled away.

"How come Leo gets a hug?" said Josh plaintively, so she wrapped her arms around him and tried to keep breathing. It really was high school crushes all over again with this man some days.

"Come on," she said. "I'm taking you home."

"I have a delicate system. You can't leave me alone. I might, you know, be...um, lonely. It's not a night to be lonely. We won."

She smiled at his pathetic excuse for an excuse. "I'll take you home with me."

He brightened. "We get four more years together," he said. "Now that's something I can drink to. Waiter!"

"You've had enough," she said, steering him towards the door.

"Just wait," he mumbled. "Just you wait, Donna Moss. This deserves celebrating." She guided him to the coat room and out of the building into the waiting cab. He rested his head on her shoulder as they went through the snowy streets to her apartment. The cat came up trying to find her ankles, which meant that her roommate was still gone.

"Shoo," said Josh as the cat approached him hopefully. "Shoo, cat. Don't bother me." He flopped down on the couch. "Come sit with me, Donna." The way he patted the cushions was terribly inviting. Apparently the cat thought so too; it leapt up and tried to crawl into Josh's lap. She smiled.

"Water first."

He was dozing when she got back and she shook his shoulder gently. He woke with a start and pushed the cat away, twisting his head to blink up at her. She held out the glass of water.

"Ugh," he said eloquently.

"Drink, Joshua. It'll help the headache." With deft fingers she undid his bow tie. His throat brushed her fingers as he swallowed. She unbuttoned his collar for him too; his fingers were too fumbly with alcohol to manage it. She'd held off the champagne tonight knowing that her fine motor skills would be needed; the two or three flutes had worn off by now, but Josh had had much more than she had and could barely shed his jacket on his own. She had kicked off her heels as soon as they'd come in, but she wanted to get out of the gown before something happened to it.

"Take off your shoes," she said over her shoulder as she went into her room, deftly unzipping. The makeup could wait until later, she decided, but she wanted to be in comfortable pants at least.

"I need to tell you something," said Josh in the living room. "It's important, Donna."

"Just a minute," she called back, looking for her favourite pajamas.

"We've been working together a long time," he said, rambling. "Shoo, cat. I respect you, Donna. That's why I keep messing with your dates. Those guys don't respect you. So I'm not sorry. Because there are men out there that are better for you. Or a man. And sometimes these things just sneak up on you." He fell silent.

"Drink your water," she said, taking the pins out of her hair and pulling it back loosely. He mumbled something. "Drink it, Joshua."

"I watched some tv show once," he said, so quiet now that she had to strain to hear him as she tidied up the remnants of her formal wear so that the cat wouldn't decide that her hosiery was a toy for the fifth or sixth time. "And the woman was talking about friendship and how sometimes a switch gets flicked and you can't see yourself with anyone else."

Donna looked in the mirror at the made-up eyes that seemed out of place and decided to wash her face now instead of later. "Josh, when you're done with that glass, you should get another." She knew that when she came out the glass would be sitting on the end table, full, but she had to try. He admitted that it helped the headaches, but he wouldn't drink it unless she was sitting there with him practically holding the glass to his lips.

Nights like this she wanted to hold herself to his lips, knowing he wouldn't remember much in the morning. Her face tingled from the astringent and the rest of her tingled from knowing that on this night of his victory, he'd come to find her so that she wouldn't be left out. It was why she loved working for him. It was why she loved him.

When she came out of the bathroom he was asleep, the cat purring on his lap and blinking up at her smugly. She chased it away and pushed him gently down onto the couch and covered him with a blanket from her bed. He said something indistinguishable and caught at her hand. She let him hold it for a moment, then squeezed his fingers and put his hand on his chest.

At the door to her room she stood and looked at him with a funny little ache under her sternum, then turned out the lights.


End file.
